


Sleep Like A Baby Tonight

by bodhirooks



Series: Every Breaking Wave [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Deaf Character, Deaf! Hux, M/M, Make-Up Story, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirooks/pseuds/bodhirooks
Summary: If they died here and met in hell Hux would blame Ren’s sorry ass entirely.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here I am, continuing the series at long last!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this short sequel :)

“Supreme Leader! The fuel cells have ruptured. The collapse of the planet has begun!”

“Leave the base at once and come to me with Kylo Ren. It is time to complete his training…”

Hux waited until the hologram faded to properly roll his eyes. Stumbling his way back across the conference chamber, he was careful to keep his steps firm so his near-treadless boots wouldn’t slip across the shaking floor. No, he absolutely was not panicking. 

Tapping aggressively at his wrist chrono, Hux brought it to his lips. “Flight command, prepare a shuttle at once!”

“Yes, sir!” the respondent cried, their connection fizzling out. As soon as that was accomplished Hux tapped in another code, which brought up the oh-so-familiar blue schematics. Shaking his head in frustration, he broadened the range, encompassing the entire crackling surface of Starkiller. There, the red dot. Lord Ren’s location. Committing it to mind, Hux deactivated his chrono and bolted out the door, leaping between corridors to reach the hangar bay. 

Only hopping in fright a few times, he reached Ren’s command shuttle, where a small squadron awaited him. In the midst of them, supported by her troops, was Captain Phasma. As he approached Hux observed the dents and filth on her armor and the atrocious stench about her person.

“Due respect, Captain, but what the fuck?” he stated, nonchalant as he could manage. Ignoring everyone, he climbed into the shuttle, expecting his men to follow. The ground gave a horrifying jolt. Latching on to the nearest support beam, Hux tossed himself into a seat and strapped in.

“Sir,” Phasma practically wheezed, waiting for her soldiers to scurry aboard, “I’m afraid this is my fault.”

Hux blinked, feeling his stomach lurch as the hatch closed and the ship sailed into the air. “Your fault?!” he demanded, voice cracking in his cochlear under the unusual amount of strain. “I fail to see how an officer of your caliber could allow something so monstrous to occur!”

Phasma’s excuse failed to reach his ears. Even as they soared through the atmosphere, leagues above the surface of the planet - his planet - Hux could feel the vibrations. They rattled his bones, his muscles, skin and hair. Squeezing his eyes shut, he bit his tongue. He would not turn of the cochlear. He’d vowed not to. Doing so now would be a sign of weakness, no matter how much worse it made this feel. 

“Give me that,” he demanded, snatching a long-range communicator from one of the snowtroopers. “Get me Lieutenant Mitaka,” he demanded, expecting the operator to patch him through immediately. 

“Sir, are you alright?” Mitaka’s voice was laden with worry, and Hux sighed in relief. The lieutenant’s shift brought him back and forth between Starkiller and the Finalizer. Thank goodness he was on the later. 

“I’m alright, Lieutenant,” Hux said, careful to enunciate. He hadn’t been doing much of that since he left Snoke’s presence, which was certainly an inconvenience to his crew. The inability to be understood equated to barbarism in his book, from both sides of the equation. 

Both sides of the war in fact. It was the incomprehensible aim of the Republic that troubled him so. How could they support equality and freedom when they failed to practice what they preached! Had there ever been a Republican commander with a disability? No. Not one. Only war heroes and criminals who could see in black and white, good and evil.

But the universe was grey. 

As Hux had stood, making himself perfectly clear to his loyal troops the hour he’d fired Starkiller, not an ounce of regret had crawled through his bones. Only resentment. Equality was here. 

Now, here was gone. He had his fleet and his weapons, but it was not the same. He had not his masterpiece of equality proving he was equal, nay, superior. 

But then, there was Kylo Ren. 

That nuisance needed rescuing, and damn him if Hux wouldn’t get the job done in the tidiest of fashions. 

The atmosphere tasted burnt and charred, the snow and cinder flurrying outside the windows, battering Ren’s stupid little shuttle. It reminded him of crashing. Hopefully they wouldn’t crash again.

Landing with a monstrous thunk, the shuttle doors screeched open under the pressure of the winds. When planets capsized, it was seldom a clean process, so Hux turned his head and prepared himself for the blast of sulfur that would strike his oversensitized nose. 

It came, and with it another sickening lurch. Troopers around him cowered and hid against the frenzied elements, but Hux unfastened his restraints, stood, and stepped forward through the bone-crushing agony until he was off the ship and in the mile-high snow.

Ren’s blip hadn’t been moving, which meant Hux couldn’t rely on Ren to come to him. So, cursing the bastard for all he was worth Hux marched forward, screaming for his troopers to follow, keep marching. He couldn’t hear his own voice. His cochlear was giving out again. 

Traversing the planet felt like walking a tightrope. One missed step could be lethal. Luckily, Hux was rather good at this game, and stomping resolutely forward to catch up with Ren was practically what he did for a living. Tuning out the static of his earpiece Hux squinted hard through the snow to observe the charred scars cleaved across capsizing trees. Marks of a battle. They were close, and now Hux was running. 

There. To the left, through the trees. Changing directions, sprinting, felt like a dream, a nightmare in slow motion where you aim forwards but move backwards. His heart was caught in his throat. He was coughing, couldn’t breathe. But Ren was his mission, and there he was. 

Hux stumbled forward, landed on his knees in the bloodied snow. Ren was pale, freezing, chest only a shallow dip with every breath. Hux sighed, stomach flipping. Kylo was alive. 

But barely.

Mechanically, Hux wrapped an arm under Kylo’s shoulders, the other beneath his knees. He braced himself to stand, but achieved barely a squat. Searching frantically over his shoulder, he couldn’t spot his troops. He screamed. 

His heart was hammering wildly. He couldn’t die like this. They couldn’t die like this. Because as much as Ren infuriated him, contradicted him, and ultimately betrayed him, he still loved the idiot, only because he couldn’t truly bring himself to hate him. 

Not yet, anyway. If they died here and met in hell Hux would blame Ren’s sorry ass entirely. 

Finally, through the snow. A sliver of silver, a pad of white. He screamed again, Come here, come here NOW!

If ever white was a good idea for armor, it was now. Looking straight on, the troops would blend into the flurry of snow. Looking up, they looked like angels against the dark and smokey sky. Bless.

But that was the most sentiment Hux would allow himself today. 

Soon Ren was off the ground, carried between the troopers and Phasma as Hux stumbled to his feet. He righted himself and marched after them, pointing the way back towards the shuttle and shrieking for them not to jostle Ren. The man was Snoke’s greatest asset, and he was needed alive. 

Hux needed him alive, too. 

The planet around them wailed and moaned, in its final throes of agony. The shuttle was rattling fiercely, threatening to rupture, and their squad struggled the last few yards against the torrents and Kylo’s dead weight. But they were onboard, and then they were inside, whizzing into the atmosphere which tore itself apart in a furnace of white and orange and red. All around them they witnessed the fire, and as Kylo was strapped to a medical cot, heart still beating, Hux couldn’t help but blame it all on him anyways. 

The troopers scattered. Kylo was alone, small beneath the bulkhead of the cot. Hux collapsed next to him, limbs weakened by the pressure as they departed. They were safe. It was fine. It was all fine… Brain still sluggish, Hux slumped and closed his eyes. It was fine. 

“What’re you thinking about?” 

Hux nearly jumped out of his skin. Straightening as his eyes flicked open, he took in the barely-there smile on Kylo’s face. 

“I can never tell what you’re thinking about.” The voice was hoarse and quiet, but there, and Ren’s chocolate eyes peered out from between crusted lashes. “You’re so many different people...”

Gingerly raising a hand, Hux leaned forward, sweeping Ren’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. He was careful to avoid the raw wound across his face. “Says you,” he retorted, but it was a vague, distracted whisper. 

Kylo’s lips twitched up, and Hux counted that as a small victory.

Silence lapsed. Hux closed his eyes again, stroking Kylo’s hair hypnotically. He felt the man’s dwindling heat return, and focused on the hum of the ship around them.

“I love you, you know.” 

Hux’s eyes didn’t open. He might cry if they did. “I thought you said-”

“I know. I didn’t mean it.” 

The reply was a choked whisper. 

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> The series will continue with the events of Star Wars: Episode VIII


End file.
